Internal Bleeding Strawberry
by Inner Dementia
Summary: There was always two constants in Hermione's life - the support of her friends, and the love from Harry. She thought they would be there for her unconditionally. Until that one fateful day when it all started to change... AU. Dark fic.
1. o n e

**Internal Bleeding Strawberry**

**Chapter: **One (Prologue)

**A/N:** Although this story has been stated as being AU, it incorporates some aspects of the later books, but that is it. This story will be very dark, so don't look for the light fluffy moments that you may find in some of the other works I have written.

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter is the product of JK Rowling's imagination and not mine. I am in no way making profit off of this, nor do I plan to.

**o1. a n d . t h e n   
**_chapter one (prologue)_

_**I don't know why I'm remembering now,  
**__**something I asked from a person  
**__**whose face I don't even remember...**_

**_Sharing one's pain and sadness  
is easier said than done.  
If I could, I would._**

Up above, dark clouds rumbled in the distance, a promise of the rain yet to come. It cast a large shadow over the ground, covering it in a haze of stark gray, a contrast to the earthen hues it was normally awash in. The sounds were absent, a reflection of the gloomy atmosphere that was shrouded over it. They may have been there once, but they weren't here today, a fitting tribute to what would soon take place.

The quiet aura presiding over the area was suddenly broken by the soft sputtering of a dying car engine. It was strange to see automobiles of any sort in this part of town but that didn't bother the woman who had been driving it. In fact, she had refused to come here by magic, shunning the other half of her that she had forgotten a long time ago. With careful precision, she stepped out of her vehicle and closed the door, the sound echoing over the landscape. Her dark eyes took a moment to take in her surroundings, focusing on the large hill that took over the horizon at the back of the grounds.

She let out a sigh and brushed a stray, curly tendril of hair away from her face, her feelings indescribable as she tried to calm the inner turmoil that was raging through her heart. Why had she come here? Did she really think her presence would change anything that had happened? If she were any less of a person, she would have turned back, never bothering to look upon this place again, and she was sorely tempted to, but her resolute determination would not allow it. She had come this far, there was no point in meeting it halfway. Taking in a deep breath, she steadied her nerves and made the slow walk up the hill, her anxiety near to the breaking part.

What did she expect to see? Her hands clenched over the possibilities, each more unbearable than the last. Why was she doing this to herself? The reason she had put herself in exile was exactly because of this, to avoid any instances where she would meet up with people she had known. If they saw her, she didn't think she would be able to handle the overwhelming guilt and shame that would come with it. After all, it was her fault that this had happened, her fault that she had taken the one and only savior they had known, and destroyed all of their hopes and dreams. The war was over, had been for quite a while, but this was the first time in a long time she had thought of them in such a way, that she felt herself flinching from the memories.

It would be easy to do it, turn around and walk away, but that would mean she'd be a coward, even more so after that, and she couldn't do that. Wouldn't do that. It was disrespectful to his memory and that was something she never wanted to destroy. He deserved better than that and for all they had been through, she could at least make the effort to face the consequences of what she had done.

_"He'd forgive you, Hermione. You know that," the man insisted, his voice rough as he sent a piercing stare towards the female in front of him._

_"Would he?" she scoffed. "I'm sorry, but that's just something I don't believe," she rejected, finding it easier to hide behind a wall of denial._

_"Of course he would, but you'd have to forgive yourself before he could do so," he said solemnly, his blue eyes gazing sadly over her figure._

She shook her head, pushing away the memory. Where had that come from? It had been ages since she had thought about that and _him_ for that matter. She thought they had been long buried, put under lock and key, never to be seen from again, but then things always had a way of coming back to haunt her. An image resurfaced once more, and she let out a frown, fighting back tears, as she fought to control the emotions that had broke free. He had been the one constant in her life after that incident and was the only one who had stayed by her side when the magical world had turned its back on her. It wasn't fair that it had to end like this, he had deserved better, and that had all been taken away from him, by her.

Pausing briefly, she sighed once more, her hand resting gently on her forehead. Her heart had been thudding loudly in her chest, a result of the heady amounts of adrenaline coursing through her veins. She was almost there, almost to the top of the hill where all of her fears and self-hatred lay. Would he be watching her? Would he be judging her from the pedestal he now stood from? Shaking her head, she knew that the better question to ask would be, "Would he forgive her?" and that was what she hated the most. She didn't want to know the answer to that, because she was quite sure that it wouldn't have been at all positive. If he could respond, his words would have been filled with nothing but hate, and she accepted that. It was nothing less than what she deserved. Even if he did, she couldn't and wouldn't hold it against him, but it would hurt all the same.

Why did she ever believe him? How could she have allowed him to manipulate and twist her for his needs? If she had only done something different, done _anything_ different, then maybe he would have been here with her today.

* * *

**A/N 2: **So, that's the first chapter. Very short, but I assure you the later ones will be much longer. This story is based around the themes of songs I have chosen, which are meant to flow like an album. I have planned this story to only have 18 chapters, and will try my best to make sure all the loose ends are tidied up by the final chapter. Anyway, thank you for reading and stay tuned for more chapters later on!


	2. t w o

**Internal Bleeding Strawberry**

**Chapter: **Two

**A/N: **As stated previously before, this story is an AU, so things that occured in the Half-Blood Prince will be different in mine. This is important to remember in this chapter, as well as in further ones.

**Disclaimer: **Of course, not mine. If it were, I wouldn't be writing this.

**o2. c a t c h e r . i n . t h e . l i g h t  
**_chapter two_

_**If you only look  
**__**you will never get it...**_

_**If you only look  
**__**it will never be yours...**_

If the weather was any indication of what was in store for them, things weren't looking too bright. Throughout the evening, large torrents of rain had pelted the castle walls, while loud crackles of thunder rumbled overhead. A screeching howl of the wind echoed down the long corridors, causing many to shiver slightly as they heard it. They had spent months, _weeks_ researching and today would be the culmination of the efforts. If they were to fail, the consequences would be disastrous, and all the hours they had spent preparing would have been for nothing.

It had been quite a shock for her to hear what Dumbledore had asked of Harry, what he wanted him to do. When he told them of horcruxes, her mouth had dropped open, and she was at a complete lost to express her disbelief. There were no words that she could have said that would accurately convey what she had felt. She knew the man was psychotic, but she didn't think he was _deranged_. Seriously, what man would _willingly_ rip their soul into pieces just for the sake of immortality? A madman, that's for sure. Well, it certainly explained how he had come to escape death time and time again.

The burden of his assignment had weighed heavily on Harry, the toll of it making itself quite clear as the weeks went on. He had become withdrawn, preferring to isolate himself in the barricades of the library, pouring over countless books and documents. It was only with the permission of Dumbledore was he allowed to confide in his closest friends, citing the need for human companionship and dependancy. Hermione had tried her best to alleviate the stress that was placed on him, as did Ron, but there was no protecting him from the strain of his task. It was there, and would never go away until he was finished.

They were after Slytherin's Locket. Dumbledore had figured that Voldemort would have most likely used objects that were of great importance to him, and what better than the Hogwarts Founders' personal items? They had already succeeded in retrieving a few others, Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem for instance, and Marvolo Gaunt's ring, which Dumbledore had disposed of. Voldemort's diary was another, having already been destroyed during Harry's second year. The problem was that there was still three more, and all of them were exceptionally dangerous to obtain, not to mention the difficulty of having to avoid gaining the Dark Lord's attention during their quest. If he had caught wind of what they were doing, all hell would have broken loose, and they could possibly have sped up an oncoming war that was still yet to come. If they could figure out what they were.

Hermione sighed, her heart beating wildly in her chest as she walked down the long corridor to Dumbledore's office. Harry and Ron were probably already there, discussing preparations with Dumbledore if necessary. She had never gone on a mission to retrieve a horcrux, in fact, neither had Ron, but that didn't mean she was looking forward to it. In fact, she was quite nervous and was almost overwhelmed by her anxiety. The things that could go wrong, or the the things that awaited them, were endless. She was surprised Harry could hold himself together at such a turbulent time, but he was always better at the hero saving thing than she was. After all, he had accompanied Dumbledore on many trips in the past, helping him destroy the other horcruxes they had gotten to.

The locket though, was something of an enigma. It had been extremely hard to track down. They had poured over multitudes of old documents, tracing the lineage of Salazar Slytherin wth minute care, making sure they didn't miss any side branches or split ends. Although, the answer was pretty obvious. The Gaunts. Dumbledore had already procured the ring from them, and it was the only possible choice to where the item may have ended up. Since, it was an heirloom and was passed on to the next of kin, and the Gaunts were the last of Slytherin's bloodline, it would more than likely have been in their possession.

A lot more investigative research took place after that. Dumbledore had taken great steps to procure memory after memory, recounting the last moments of Merope Gaunt's life. It was quite a sad tale too, she felt a strange sort of pity towards Voldemort's mother, having never received the affections from her father or from the man she loved most. Yet, despite that, she couldn't help but feel a certain revulsion towards the fact that she was the one who had given birth to one of the most immoral figures ever seen in the magical world.

Their collected data had brought them to Borgin and Burkes, the dark artifact store Harry had seen once before when he had the misfortune of landing in Knockturn Alley. In her destitution and desperate need of money, she had sold one of her family's most prized possessions for a mere ten galleons, which was not enough to keep her afloat. It was then that she died later in childbirth in some small muggle orphanage, only being able to breathe out the name of her son before passing away. Hermione shook her head, what a sad existence that woman had to endure, and she felt inexplicably sorry for it. It was not a wonder that her son had turned out to be the twisted person he was today.

Sighing, Hermione continued down the hall, her eyes darting from side to side to check for any wandering students. They needed secrecy, no one could know what they were doing, otherwise their cover would have been blown. Although, if she had been caught by one of the few curious late night drifters, she would just mark it up to Head Girl duties and chide them for being out past curfew.

Her fingers toyed with the golden surface of her badge, and she frowned slightly. She wasn't sure what qualified someone for the position of Head Girl in the least, sure a lot of it could be attributed to her grades, but didn't social standing count as well? She definitely was _not_ liked in the Hogwarts community, many of them considering her a stuck up, bossy, know-it-all who lacked the etiquette reserved for those of her background.

Well, what did they know? She wasn't going to take things lying down like an obedient dog! She huffed out a few angry curses under her breath before continuing onwards. It was this ambition though, that had caused many to believe she was a suck up and would do anything to further herself in stature. If Hermione had anything to say about it, she figured that the alarming lack of potential candidates in the Hogwarts residency was what had granted her the prestigious title. Not that she had anything against of course, it was something she had dreamed about for _years_, starting from the moment she had been admitted into the school.

Frowning, Hermione focused her thoughts on the upcoming task at hand, mentally reliving all the facts they had discovered.

After some time, the previous owner of the shop, Caractacus Burke, had sold the locket to an elderly witch, Hepzibah Smith, who was a collector of magical antiques. Later on, when Mr. Borgin had taken over, a very familiar name became his apprentice. Tom Riddle. It was surprising to think the Dark Lord had an actual identity before becoming the mass murderer he was today, but then again, there was not much that one could find shocking, living in a magical world.

He was quite the evil man. When Hepzibah had shown him the precious item, he had immediately desired it for his own, and befriended the woman under false pretenses. Being such a vain and lonely woman, she had fallen to his charms, only to be killed much later. Her death was framed as a case of accidental poisoning, the work of an ancient and feeble house elf. To keep his newly formed horcrux safe, he had hidden it in the old storage cave of Borgin and Burkes, where it was (supposedly) protected by a various sort of spells and camouflaged by its surrounding environment. Yet, no one knew where it was located, and _that_ was where they would be headed.

Hermione came to a stop, her eyes resting on the stone gargoyle in front of her. She was here. Trying in vain to keep a steady tone of voice, she whispered out, "treacle tart" and the statue stepped away, revealing the hidden staircase behind it. Of all the strange things he could have chosen for his password, he went for something relatively mundane this time, quite a contrast to his eccentric behavior. Hermione suppressed a giggle and strode forward, her mood growing somber as the reality of her upcoming task began to take effect.

Biting her lip in anxiety, she raised a hand towards the wooden door, and knocked hesitantly with her fist. At once the entrance sprang open and she stepped inside, a familiar voice greeting her.

"Ah, Miss Granger. I take it that everything went according to plan?" Professor Dumbledore inquired, his voice quiet but not any less serious.

"Yes, sir," Hermione answered, taking the moment to sit next to Harry. He glanced at her with an expression of concern, his green eyes glittering, as he came to rest his hand upon her shoulder. Gazing at him, she managed a brief head shake, the unspoken words hovering in the air between them.

"Splendid!" he said jovially, his mouth breaking into a pleased smile.

Ron gave a quizzical stare in her direction, his eyebrow cocked in amusement. _Just what was so splendid about that? _he seemed to say, and she shrugged, not knowing either. They had become quite accustomed to their Headmaster's strange habits, and it was beyond them to explain the reasoning behind it. A slight cough drew their attention back to their Headmaster and they listened intently, the air heavy with knots of jittery tension.

"As you know, the area I am sending you to is extremely dangerous. I cannot stress this enough," he paused briefly, sending them a piercing glare to emphasize the importance of his words. "Do _not_ touch anything that does not merit a second look. To do so may result in your death. Furthermore," he broke off once again, "you must not draw attention to yourselves, it will only attract the desires of a creature who has a taste for human flesh."

Hermione shivered at his words, _what sort of horrific monster would crave human flesh? _It was quite frightening to think about and she found herself flinching slightly at the visuals it presented. Harry's face was grave, his complexion pale as his lips were drawn into a thin line. He gripped her hand tightly with his and sat completely still, keeping a stoic aura of control around him. Ron tensed visibly, as his blue eyes blazed wildly under the dim light of the room, the hold on his wand tightening.

"I have created a portkey that will take you to your targeted destination, and once finished with your task, it will return you back outside the castle gates." From the depths of his cloak he withdrew an object that he held in his hand.

It was a small towel, covered in stains from years of use, with certain portions of the material completely riddled in holes. An interesting choice, but it was simple and subdued, not something one would notice if it happened to fall by the wayside. Dumbledore gave it one last glance over before handing it to Ron, who accepted it without question, pocketing it in his robes. The trio turned towards their mentor, waiting anxiously on his words. Anything that would help them on this assignment, anything that could possibly save them from an almost probable death. She had almost wished that their Headmaster would come along, but she knew that was improbable. He had been gravely injured on his quest to destroy Marvolo Gaunt's ring and needed to rest.

Hermione felt her hands began to sweat in her nervousness as a certain dampness began to leak out from under her fingertips. Harry seemed to take no notice of it as his jaw was clenched hard in his anxiety. She was lucky that she had him by her side to give her strength, it was only in the last year that they had started seeing one another, and it made their bond with one another almost inseparable. Ron had been furious at first, the girl of his dreams having been taken away by his best friend, but after a while he had become used to the idea, and had grudgingly accepted it. In fact, her and Harry's relationship had only served to bring the three of them closer, and she couldn't imagine life without them.

"I assume that all of you have made the necessary preparations," he asked, his eyes directed at Harry.

The three of them nodded in reply, bringing their wands out to the ready. Taking note of what was asked of him, the leader of their group made a small motion with his hands, understanding the hidden meaning behind their Headmaster's words.

"Good. That is all. I wish you the best of luck in your quest, and may all of you return without injury," Dumbledore said softly, his eyes bright as he regarded the students in front of him.

Together, they stood slowly from their chairs, their hearts heavy with fear and worry of their upcoming mission. The task they had been looking forward to with thinly veiled anticipation, was now a reality, and all their prior misgivings rose out from the shadows, taunting them with failure. They marched with resolute determination down the hallway corridors, their steps terse and quick, as they sought out the great castle doors. There were no words spoken between them, as there was none to be made. All that was need to be said could be felt in the turbulent air between them. What would they see? What horrors awaited them? These were some of the questions that were broadcasted loudly in their minds, but yet, on their faces only one could be seen. "Would we die?"

Once outside, they headed towards their designated transport location, making sure to be as quiet as possible. Reaching their targeted area, Ron withdrew the rag from his cloak, and they huddled around him. Grasping his wand tightly in his hand, he tapped the portkey once on its flattened side, and they waited for the telltale sign that it was working. A sudden jerk behind their navel drew them inwards, and in the blink of an eye, they were gone.

* * *

The ground came rushing up to them with alarming speed, depositing them in the middle of a valley with a loud thud. Hermione staggered on her feet, her hands outstretched as she tried to maintain her balance. She grimaced widely when she felt her body topple over onto its knees, taking the brunt of the fall. Harry was the only one who had kept some semblance of standing, as he swayed heavily from side to side in front of her. Ron though, was the worst. He had never mastered the art of making a graceful landing, falling completely on his face with rather comical motions.

"Where the hell are we?" he spat, once he had pulled himself off the ground.

Hermione rose and frowned, making a face of disdain at the dirt on her pants. With a swift pat, she quickly dusted it away from her and took a glance at their surroundings. They were in a valley of some sorts, large trees dotted the landscape with abundance, its broad leaves providing for a thick canopy overhead. It was difficult to garner much about their environment, due to lack of light, but it was quite obvious where they were. The air tingled with ancient magic, and it seemed like people hadn't visited this area in quite a while, judging by the overgrown flora that littered the grounds. Any signs of human civilization, if there were any, was absent, or had been long erased. And at present, they couldn't feel any forms of danger.

Well, that was better than coming face to face with flesh-eating demons, or enraged Death Eaters who were out to erase their existence from the planet. In fact, this was quite pleasant compared to that. Relieved, she let out a noisy exhale and released some of the tension that she had held up in her body, finding herself more at ease. Harry gazed at her, his eyes dark in the light, as he brought her in for a hug. His lips left a soft kiss on her forehead, and she blushed slightly, not used to his outward display of affection. They tended to do things in the comfort of privacy, not in front of others where they could be seen. She could feel him relax under her touch, as he regained his normal outgoing persona. He gave her a bright smile to assure her that everything was alright.

Frowning, she stepped back and realized that Ron had asked a question she had yet to answer. That must have been a first. Hermione? Not jump at the first chance to show off her wide range of knowledge? Unspeakable! Her mighty shroud of observational intellect _had_ to be slipping.

Pulling out a folded piece of parchment from her cloak, she brought it up to her face, and tried to read the notes she had written down long ago. If she was supposedly the smartest witch of her era, it would have made sense that she came prepared for this, right? There must have been something that she had come across that would have been of use for them. She hadn't spent hours in the library studying maps for nothing!

Damn, why in the bloody hell was it so _dark? _She couldn't see! Forget reading too, there was no way she would be able to read if she couldn't even see the notes she had written down on her paper. She let out a frustrated sigh and brought it closer to her face, hoping the thin slivers of moonlight would be able to help her in some way. Nope, no such luck.

"Hermione, you do realize you _are_ a witch, right?" a voice broke out, interrupting her struggle.

"What?" she mumbled, too engrossed in deciphering her neatly written scribbles to lift her head. "Wait..." she said, as if realizing what was just spoken to her. "Of course I'm a witch! What kind of question is that?" Hermione snapped, lifting her head from the paper to glare at her offender. _Honestly!_

"Oh, really?" he drawled. "Then why aren't you using your wand?"

Hermione blushed hotly at his words, and she dropped her head, hoping to hide her flaming cheeks in the cover of night. Ron let out a snort of laughter at her reaction, finding the situation entirely amusing. "I forgot! I'm not perfect you know, so you can just -"

_"Lumos," _Harry said, lighting his wand, as he cut off her answer. "I was only joking, Hermione. No need to get so uptight about it," he teased, his face breaking out into a smile.

She let out a snort of indignation and rolled her eyes. "Anyway, we should get started on finding that horcrux. Do you have any idea where it could be?" Her quest at deciphering her notes, presently forgotten.

Harry shook his head. "Well, Dumbledore did say it was located in a cave, but I don't see any around here. Perhaps we should look around first?" he suggested, his green eyes surveying the landscape around him. From what he could garner, this was a rather lush valley, so the chances of them finding a hidden cave along the walls were slim to none. And what's more, there didn't seem to be any inhabitants in the area, but that didn't mean he could let his guard down. It would risk the danger of them being caught by surprise and that would be an automatic death sentence out in the open. Something he definitely did not want.

Hermione nodded. "Good idea. I'd say we cover the area in sections one at time. If the horcrux is here, as we believe, than it's most likely going to be in an area that is loaded with magic. We should look for those places first."

"Okay, so where do we start first?" Ron broke in, hovering closer to the talking pair.

"Well, if what Hermione says is right, which I'm sure she is," Harry said, glancing at the female at his side, "then we should head towards places that emit the greatest sources of power."

"Let's just work ourselves from right to left on the bottom floor of this valley. We'll have to find a cave eventually somewhere, otherwise where else could the horcrux be?" Hermione frowned, knowing there was something she should be remembering about this place, something very important.

Finding that their plan had been settled on, the trio quickly moved off, heading off in the direction they had chosen. The ground was damp and uneven, the large trees looming over them like ominous watchers, ready to attack when they weren't looking. They found their way difficult, and frequently had to pause in place, massaging sore shins that had become rapped by exposed roots. Hermione flanked Harry's side, their arms briefly touching as they walked, taking comfort in each other's presence. Ron took up position right next to them, pointing out objects he noticed along the way. They found themselves venturing deeper and deeper into the valley, drawn to some unknown source they couldn't see.

They came to a stop at an expansive field, marked by rolling hills and scattered trees. It was quite strange that for the past hour they had been triapsing through growth that so dense and thick, it could almost have been considered a forest, and yet now, in the center of the valley, it was practically barren? The opposite should have been happening, things should be becoming more compressed, not drifting apart.

"Where did the bloody forest go?" Ron exclaimed, more of a rhetorical question for himself rather than a need for another person's answer. "We've been walking around for _hours_! And we've found absolutely _nothing_. This quest is turning out to be completely bogus. I say we head back to the castle, tell Dumbledore he's full of shit, and go back to the drawing board."

He was about ready to pull the portkey from his robes when Harry held out his hand, stopping him.

"Wait..." he said, his eyes narrowed, his wand held out in front of him. "There's something about this place... It's just rippling with magic, I can feel it. The horcrux has to be here." How could they not sense it? The air was practically crackling with it! All across the grounds the magic called to them, a siren voice of luring temptation. He could almost grab it within his hands, and he felt his fists clench in response, the pull of it so powerful.

Hermione frowned, how on earth could he know that? There was nothing especially different about the place, and the harder she tried to gleam the specific feelings Harry had been experiencing, she was met with complete emptiness. Maybe it had something to do with his connection to Voldemort? Strange, unexplainable things always happened around him in regards to that being. She shook her head correcting herself. No, he wasn't a person anymore, he had long forsaken his identity when he chose to walk down his path of death and destruction.

"What? Mate, I think you've gotten a bit messed up in the head. I don't see any signs of a cave being here, nor does it look like it exists. I mean, come on, the place is a bloody field!" Ron persisted, obviously just as confused as Hermione was. Exactly where would the place be located than if there were no signs of it on the ground? What then? How could Harry explain that?

"It's here, I'm sure of it," Harry insisted, his face drawn into a frown as he tried to figure out the reasonings behind his beliefs. It was there, he just _knew_ it, but how could he prove it when there was nothing to back up his statements? All around him, there was no evidence in the contrary to help confirm his stance. It seemed like a lost cause, and he felt himself grit his teeth in frustration. That horcrux was here and he bloody well knew it.

Hermione felt the twinges of excitement start to pull at her. It was a puzzle! These were the type of things she had thrived. There was no better satisfaction than ripping apart a problem, fleshing out its hidden clues, and then piecing it back together again with the answer. None. Her mind was already hard at work, testing out possible theories, and had begun inputting probable figures. But, for all her smarts, her brain wasn't able to solve the riddle, and she thought perhaps it would be better to go about things a different way.

If it couldn't be seen on the ground, and Harry was positive it was here, then that it _had_ to be here. But where? If it wasn't on the ground, which meant above ground, that meant it must be-. Hermione could have slapped herself, the answer was so simple, so easy, that it was right there in front of her! How could she have not seen it? It it wasn't above ground, then it _obviously_ must be underground.

"I got it!-"

"Figures," Ron muttered, groaning slightly.

Hermione bit back a retort, sending him a fierce glare before continuing, "Well, Harry, you say the horcrux definitely has to be here right?" He nodded in response, confirming his prior statements. "And there obviously is no sign of a cave to be found _anywhere_," she paused for dramatic effect. "That must mean that it has to be located, _under us_."

"What!" Ron yelled, his eyes widening. That answer wasn't what he had been expecting.

"I don't get it," Harry murmured, his brows furrowing. "If it's underground, then how are we going to find it?"

"That's a good question," Hermione frowned, taking a moment to think it over. "If it's in a cave, that must mean it's hollow, right? If that's true, then the ground must be hollow as well."

"How are we going to check that?" Ron asked, his face caught in an expression of confusion.

"By stomping," Harry said flatly, his eyes gazing out into the rolling field.

Hermione agreed. "Alright, let's get started. I think we should split up and spread out. It would make things much easier."

Harry quickly headed off for the center, wishing them luck as he passed by, and warned them to be cautious. Voldemort would have laid out a lot of traps to protect his horcrux, so they had to keep on their toes. Ron decided to take area on the left, while Hermione was forced to take up the one of the right. But just before they were about to break off, Ron pulled her aside, citing the need to talk with her.

"Did you hear something?" he whispered, his words tense.

Startled, Hermione lifted her head, cocking an ear towards the forest behind them. Nothing. The only sounds that she could hear was the still silence of the night that hovered around them. In fact, they were the only people in this entire place who _were_ making noise. Not that that was a good thing, nor was it a source of comfort.

"No," she responded, biting her lip. "I think you're imagining things, Ron."

"Maybe, but I swear I heard something," he said, frowning.

Casting off their doubt, they headed off in their assigned directions, each having a heightened sense of awareness towards their surroundings. Hermione frowned, almost tripping over another rock. When she got back to the castle, if she ever did, she was sure there would be a rather nasty bruise on the bottom of her shin. Turning her head, she eyed a large tree to the left of her, its leafy branches covering the light of the moon. With careful steps, she quickly walked up the slight embankment, making sure to keep the noise level as low as possible.

It was probably as normal as a tree could get, large sturdy trunk, thick roots, and a distinct musty smell that indicated it must have burst into bloom quite recently. Feeling a bit ridiculous, she raised her hand and knocked on the base of its stem, letting out a curse when it came back stinging. _Definitely not hollow_. Moving back, she lifted her legs and stomped hard on the blanket of grass below her, finding it just as hard as the tree she had just hit. She resisted the urge to gasp out loud in pain, and settled for a wide grimace, her hands clenching beside her as she did so. _Guess that means it's not here._

Sighing, she sat down and observed the ground around her. It had to be here somewhere. How could one find something that was underground, protected, and almost impossible to see? It was like finding the proverbial needle in a haystack. Frowning, she kept finding her eyes would always stray to a certain mound, like it was magnetically attracted to it for some odd reason. There wasn't anything strange or different about it. Sure there wasn't any trees next to it, but that was normal, right? It rose and crested like every other hill she had found back home, so what made this one special?

Wait a minute. The point wasn't that there _wasn't_ a tree next to it, but the fact that it was the _only_ one without it. Excited by her discovery, she raced down the embankment, and ran as fast as her legs could carry her, coming to an abrupt stop at the foot of it. Wasting no time, she quickly walked up it, stomping heavily on the ground below. A soft chorus of dull thuds rose up from underneath her, and she nearly shrieked in joy. She had found it! The hidden cave they were looking for.

"Harry! Ron! I think I found it!" she yelled, waving her arms to get their attention. At once, they paused, their heads turned towards her, before breaking out into a flat run.

As soon as the words left her mouth, she felt an indescribable chill go up her spine. _Something was wrong_. With wary unease, she stared at the surrounding forest, her senses on high alert. After thorough checking she found that there was nothing there. Only an eerie sense of silence and the hushed whispers of the wind as it made its way through the trees were located here. Trying her best to shrug her fears away, she turned back towards the hill, her eyes searching for the cave's entrance.

The rhythmic pants of two male figures appeared beside her, exhausted from their brief run.

"Is this it?" Harry asked, his eyes scanning the ground with quiet intensity.

"Yes," Hermione answered, placing her hand on her hips, as she felt prickles travel up and down the back of her neck. She frowned, and placed a hand over it, trying her best to make it go away.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's get to work!" Ron said, getting on his knees and pulling at the grass below him.

They followed suit and joined him, pawing at the hillside, yanking clumps of dirt and debris out of their way. It would have been helpful if they had shovels, but who would really think to bring bulky items on a quest like this? It would only take up space and be a burden on them when they had to carry and move it around. Slowly, they were making progress, the outline of a door surfacing beneath them. It was very old, the color having faded from its former luster, only to be replaced with blotchy patches of dirt encrusted stains. Running her hands over it, Hermione thought it felt similiar to asphalt, almost cement in texture.

Hermione dug her fingers into the damp earth, her hands tearing away the soil in large clumps, speeding up the process the other boys were already hard at work on. They were finished! The door was unearthed, and it shone dully in the moonlight, the grime making a poor reflector of it. Harry and Ron sat back, taking a moment to rest, as Hermione seized up the dimensions in front of her. In all honesty, it was rather small, only fitting enough for one person to fit through at a time.

A sudden memory flashed through her mind, and she paused, her eyes widening in fear.

"I know what this place is," she whispered in painful tones, just as a high, deafening scream pierced through the night air.

The trio glanced at each other, panic reflected brightly on their faces. Out from the shadows, a large creature emerged. His eyes were red as his mouth hung open in heavy pants, his teeth a row of razor sharp incisors. It stared at them with rabid zeal, a low growl escaping its throat.

"This is the Isle of Drear, the only place where quintapeds exist. The monster who has a taste for human flesh," she rasped out loud, barely able to keep herself from stumbling backwards.

The monster started forward, its body a framework of mismatched pieces. Built low to the ground, it travelled slowly aboard five hairy legs, each ending in a clubbed foot. Trickles of saliva dangled out from its mouth, its flattened nose upturned toward the air, sniffing eagerly. It was hungry and on a mission for food. Them. Pleased at what he saw, it lifted its head and let out a howl, signifying the start of his hunt. Without further ado, the quintaped leaped into the air and charged at them, moving faster than a speed they thought possible.

_"Stupefy!"_ Harry roared, the spell erupting from his wand. The crimson beam of light flew straight and true, smacking the quintaped directly between the eyes. The monster paused briefly, shaking his head in annoyance, before letting out a scream of rage, barelling towards them in a pace twice as swift.

"Shit," Ron swore, as he gripped his wand, the knuckles of his hand turning white.

"RUN!" Hermione screeched, whirling around and darting down the hill.

The pair of boys needed no further push, as they followed behind her, adrenaline racing through their veins. The trio raced forwards, their path arcing haphazardly over the field, desperate in their plight to escape their bloodthirsty killer. They shot hexes, spells, _anything _in an attempt to slow the rampaging monster down, but their efforts were in vain, as the creature kept up its constant chase, not needing a moment to catch its breath. If they didn't do something soon, they would die! Eaten to death for a quintaped's supper!

"The cave! We need to get into the cave!" Hermione yelled, abruptly switching directions. If there was one thing they had on their side, it was agility. The monster couldn't handle the sharp twists and turns as easily as they could. And they put it to full use, changing their course whenever they felt the beast come to close.

Hermione's body felt like it was on fire, as a burning pain laced through her calves, her chest tight from lack of air. She didn't know how much longer she could keep this up, the fatigue was overwhelming and she desperately need to rest. A cry of relief tore out from her throat, as she dropped to her knees at the base of the hill, searching for anything that would open the door. Ron dug frantically, hoping there was a handle hidden nearby. Harry stood above them, his arm outstretched as he shot out spell after spell.

"Here!" Ron shouted, yanking a small golden knob he had unearthed off to the side.

"Come on! Pull harder!" Hermione shrieked, shoving him out of the way, as she tried to open it for herself. It slipped through her fingers, and she tried again, grasping it with all the strength she had. But it didn't budge. Not even a fraction. She screamed in despair, every second they wasted, was another second the monster came all the more closer, taunting them with the smell of death.

Tears threatened to leak out from her eyes, and she wiped them angrily away. She wouldn't give up! Not now, not ever! Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Harry dodging a swipe from the quintaped's claw, and she let out a gasp, her heart in her throat. Ron raged loudly, prodding the knob with his wand, praying it would somehow work. But no, it remained a figure of vexation, keeping its form and staying put in its location.

Hermione frowned, and noticed there was something peculiar about the knob, almost as if it was made to represent something. Its form wasn't perfectly round as it should be, the sides were scalloped in a pyramid fashion, although the steps were very slight. Up top, a very faint protrudence angled towards the left, a small round dot placed near the edge. At first, she had mistaken it for a piece of dirt they had missed, but she had begun to realize, that its placement wasn't a leftover remnant they had failed to remove. It was shaped specifically for a purpose, one that she hadn't solved.

If she had to be honest with herself, she thought it looked very animal-like in nature, almost reptilian if she had to pinpoint it. Wait a minute... Reptilian? ...Snakes? _Harry!_

Whirling around, she faced the back of the dueling male in front of her. They only had a split second of leeway before the monster would be upon them. If this didn't work, they would be done for.

"Harry! Quick, come here! I think this needs you to use parseltongue to open it," Hermione shouted, grabbing him on the arm.

Launching off another spell, he turned quickly, and hissed, _"Open!" _

At once, the knob glowed green, and the door melted away, leaving a gaping hole they could slip though. Unknown dangers awaited them, as a wall of darkness hid the cave from sight.

"What are you waiting for? Hermione, go!" Harry yelled, his eyes darting wildly towards the monster behind them. A scream of rage reached her ears, and she felt the ground tremble beneath her feet - the quintaped was making his last charge. It was furious that its prey was escaping, he was hungry, and by damn, he would have it!

Without wasting another moment, she jumped, closing her eyes in trepidation at what waited her at the bottom. Satisfied that she was out of danger, Harry next turned to Ron.

"Quick, you next!" he ordered, brandishing his wand.

"No! You go, I'll follow!" Ron said, taking Harry's place in front.

"Ron, no! I said-"

"Hurry up! Just get inside! You're wasting time, I'll be right behind you!" Ron snapped, shoving Harry roughly towards the hole, before launching a ball of fire at the monster.

Harry nodded in defeat and jumped through, leaving Ron to face the quintaped alone.

Steadying his hand, he glared at the raging monster before him, his blue eyes hard. The quintaped tossed his burly head from side to side, snorting loudly as he did so, pawing the ground underneath him. There was only one chance he could make his escape, just one. He needed to make the next spell he cast completely perfect.

_"Confringo!" _he roared, hitting the beast in the eyes. It let out a howl of pain and leapt forward, running blindly towards his inflictor, streams of blood pouring down its face.

Seizing his chance, Ron turned, and dived into the hole, his body barely fitting. Just as he was about to slip through, he felt a claw grab at his leg, the talons ripping through his clothes and slicing his skin open. "Argh!" he screamed, his eyes nearly watering from the pain. Whipping himself around, he raised his wand and aimed it at his attacker. _"Relashio!"_

At once, the claws released him, and he fell to the ground, landing with a booming thud that echoed throughout the cave. Up above, the angry growls of the quintaped drifted towards them, pawing manically at the entrace. The door was sealed, he would never get in. Sighing in relief, he stood up, gingerly placing his weight on his injured leg, as he looked for his friends.

They appeared by his side, coming out from the shadows, as they raised their lighted wands, expressions of relief on their faces.

"Are you alright?" Harry asked, worry in his eyes.

Ron nodded, managing to keep a grimace out of his features. Hermione frowned, and stood back, inspecting him more closely. He gritted his teeth as he saw her eyes drift downwards, then widen in surprise. He didn't want them to know, even if the pain was killing him.

"Ron, you're hurt!" she said, dropping to the ground to inspect his leg.

"It's fine. Bastard got a hand in me when I was about to jump in," he answered, dismissing her concerns.

"You should've told us! We heard you scream, you know, and thought something terrible had happened to you," Harry chastised him, scrutinizing his wounds.

"Yeah, well, things were happening too fast for me to think clearly. 'sides I was more worried about being eaten to death than to call for you guys," Ron responded, his arms crossed over his chest.

Hermione shook her head, and held her wand over her hand, conjuring up bandages as she did so. She quickly wrapped them around his leg, and cast a small healing charm in the process, hoping it would help alleviate the pain. "There that should do it," she murmured softly, stepping back to view her work.

"Thanks," Ron said, gently testing his weight on it. There was still a small twinge discomfort, but nothing he couldn't handle. "So," he began, attempting to change the subject. "How the hell are we going to see in this damn place?"

A rush of light followed his words, and the place was filled with a dim, yellow glow that illuminated its previously hidden contents.

The trio gasped at what they saw. While not expansive, it certainly made up for it in luster. All around them, even back to the cave walls, were items stacked in haphazard order. Many of which, were covered in precious metals, its surface glinting in the dull light. There was even marbled statues built in the likeness of wizards who had achieved fame in one way or another. It was practically a gold mine, and they were stunned, thinking those had only come in pirate tales, and not in real life.

"Come on, this is no time to be gaping. We have a horcrux to find," Harry shot out, snapping them back to reality. They would get nowhere if they just stood around wasting time, they could be awestruck later, preferably in the comfort of their own beds.

They nodded and quickly fanned out, splitting the cave's contents into thirds.

"Whatever you do, _don't touch_ anything. The horcrux could be loaded with curses, and we don't want to end up trapped here, so just call me, okay?" Harry warned, briefly looking back at them over his shoulder.

Hermione quickly set herself to work, walking over to the right side of the cave, making sure to keep her body well away from any protruding objects. The things that were kept here were amazing, she even found scrolls written by the Hogwarts Founders' themselves! Despite her burning desire to reach out and grab them, she stayed put, eyeing them wistfully. If only she could read them, the information she could gleam from it would be tremendous! Her scholarly mind would nearly explode from the sheer weight of it.

Sighing loudly in resignation she sidestepped the stacked scrolls, and headed towards a table, an assortment of jewels and fancy items scattered across of it. Those things must have been worth a fortune, she even saw a ruby that was almost the size of her fist! Yet, even for all of its amazing artifacts, it was painfully obvious that someone hadn't been in the cave for a very long time. Layers of dust coated the surface, entrapping any objects it came upon in a thick web of grime, hiding their inner secrets from sight.

"Jeeze, man! I almost stepped on a rat! Scared the crap out of me!" Ron's voice yelled out, and she rolled her eyes in response. It was always like him to make a ruckus, he never could keep quiet when he needed to.

Hermione's eyes fell on a marble bust, and she frowned. There was just something so strange about it. Wandering closer, she bent down to get a closer look at it, and realized that the model for the sculpture was none other than Salazar Slytherin. Shocked, she stared intently at the figure, making out every detail in the mold.

He had a rather narrow face, giving him a sort of weedy look. His hair was absent on top his head, but it grew in abundance in the long beard that trailed off from his chin, ending at the bottom of the platform. His clothes were of typizal wizard dress, long robes that signified his importance in society, and an immense cloak that hung from his shoulders. The strangest part of the figure was his hands, most of the pictures she had seen of him had them placed in front, the fingertips touching as they formed a triangular point, but this one was different. They hung loosely at his sides, while one was outstretched, palm open towards that sky.

_What in the world_? she thought to herself crept closer, eager to inspect it more fully. Then without warning, she felt her body sway, unable to balance on the tips of her toes, and suddenly heard a loud snap beside her. Her heart in her throat, she turned, hoping that she hadn't triggered off some sort of trap. To her surprise, she found everything exactly the way it was, dirty and completely still. But, there was something off with the bust, something different about it.

The hand! It had rotated clockwise, so that it now faced inwards, towards her, rather than upwards like it had done before. _That's strange. Why would it move? _Most objects, if subjected to a blunt force would have simply broken off, instead of turning in another direction. Maybe it had some sort of secret purpose behind it - a signal for something greater, or a device used to open a hidden compartment concealed by magic.

Her gaze was drawn downwards and she saw a thin, golden chain of a necklace lying on the cavern floor. It was intricately made, every link shaped to perfect size, and at the end dangled a beautiful pendant. There was an elaborate design on the front, a series of lines that looped endlessly around each other, she could have sworn they resembled a letter, but she ignored that fact for now. The pattern was beset with the purest emeralds, its color dark and rich, without a single marr to its beautiful form. This must have cost a fortune to make, the clarity of the gemstones was astounding.

Her eyes was entranced by its designs, and she felt the overwhelming need to touch it, to hold it. Who would notice right? It was only a necklace, nothing more. Her fingers reached out, intent on grazing the surface. It called out to her, begging her in relentless tones to pick it up, just once, it wouldn't hurt, try me on, just once. Just once_. _

In a daze, Hermione grasped it with the tips of her fingers, unable to break out of her daze. It was so soft, the chain almost like water as she held it in her hand, the golden pendant glittering brightly in the dim light. But just as she was about to inspect it further, a loud rumbling erupted throughout the cave, the floor below her trembling vibrantly. Panicking, she quickly swung the necklace over her head, depositing it on her shoulders, and burying it underneath her clothes.

"Quick, get over here!" Harry yelled, waving his wand as they moved away from the piles of artifacts.

Panting loudly, the trio stared back at the mountain of items they had just come from, their eyes widening in horror. At once, the previously harmless looking relics had disappeared, melting in form to a thick, forebidding mass of black. It had all been an illusion, none of it had been real. If they had touched it, they would have been swallowed by the viscous liquid, which was now headed towards them, destroying everything in its parth. Things that were in its way, vanished in a crackling hiss of steam, almost as if they they were swallowed by toxic acid.

"Come on! We've got to get out of here," Harry said, grabbing the other two and forcibly dragging them with him.

Their steps were too slow, and Hermione felt herself begin to fall back, the menacing pool of darkness creeping ever closer. _Faster! She needed to go faster! _But no matter how hard she pushed herself, how much she tried to catch up, the black mass was all the more quicker. _No! No! I need to get away! _Then in one dizzying moment, her foot stumbled over an uneven surface, and she fell to the floor, arms splayed out above her. Fear gripped her in overwhelming proportions, as she pushed herself off the ground, not daring to breathe. Once she stood, a sharp burning pain raced up her leg, and she looked down, and let out a scream. The horrifying liquid had latched itself to the bottom of her limb, and was slowly beginning to eat through her skin with blistering speed.

"Hermione!" the pair shouted, their eyes widened in horror. They raced towards her, desperate to save her from the oncoming mass that was threatening to consume her.

Grasping either arm, the boys pulled her with them, darting towards the entrance they had come from. It was sealed! How would they get out? Frantically, Harry tried to order it open with parseltongue, but it refused to move, remaining a black wall that could not be penetrated. Seized by fear, they fired off spell after spell, hoping any of them would work. But they all failed, doing little to budge the barrier that prevented them from escaping. If they didn't get out soon, the cursed liquid would catch up to them, and they would perish, never to be seen from again.

Hermione moaned, the pain unbearable as she sank to her knees. Her body was spent, it had used an extreme amount of energy in her rush of adrenaline and would not hold up any longer. She could feel blood seeping out from her wounds, and she tried desperately to keep herself upright. But it was too late, her exhaustion was paramount, and she felt herself losing to its clutches. A gentle breeze briefly touched the top of her hair, and she glanced up, the world a hazy mass of shapes and blurs.

Unable to keep herself conscious any longer, she fell into the oncoming grasp of darkness, but not before a low, sinister voice pervaded her thoughts.

_"Ah, Hermione Granger. How interesting."_

* * *

**A/N 2: **Whew, that was a long one. That's the first time I've ever written an action scene, I hope it didn't turn out too horribly. Anywho, I'm pretty pleased with this and I'm hoping that will reflect back to you. I'm sorry the first half was not very exciting, I had to set up the background information and what was to occur later on in the second half. A few notes I have to make about the chapter and the story: I stated that Dumbledore was injured from his previous encounter with the ring, and in the sixth book, he was severely damaged and subsequently died from it later. Here, it's not that terrible and he'll make a full recovery later on, but it won't leave him without repercussions. The song lyrics that I place at the beginning are very important. They indicate what the theme of the chapter will be like, and also hint at what will happen. So, I would take note of them before reading.

I'll try to get out the next chapter as soon as possible. Reviews and comments are always appreciated! I love hearing what my readers thought of my stories and chapters.

**Thanks:** I have to thank the people who read and reviewed this story, otherwise where would I be if it weren't for them? They being: pot kettle black. Thanks again!


	3. t h r e e

**Internal Bleeding Strawberry**

**A/N:** Is it just me, but is every story in the TR x HG section a Time-Turner or going back to the past story?

**Disclaimer:** I wish. Haha.

**o3. [ c o n n e c t e d ]**_  
chapter three  
_

**_I see, I find, I make sure.  
I stare, I'm fascinated, I'm satisfied, but..._**

_**We're connected at each and every place so  
when I think this word, you'll already know.  
**_

The soft glare of light slowly filtered through Hermione's closed eyes. She groaned and pulled herself awake, blinking a few times in the process. _Where am I?_ Groggily, she glanced around her, taking in her surroundings. Her body was resting upon a slight incline, a blanket of grass beneath her. Off in the distance, tall groupings of trees encircled the undulating field she was currently lying in. There was something about this place that seemed so familiar...

With a rush, the painful memories of the night before slammed into her thoughts, and she gasped in horror. Images of a black oozing mass creeping towards them and explosions of pain that wracked her body, and Hermione immediately glanced downwards.

Her leg! What happened to her leg? Instead of puddles of blood and a gaping wound eating through her calf, she instead found pristine and unmarked pale skin. Eyes wide, her hand reached out and grabbed her flesh, squeezing and running it up and down the expanse of her skin to make sure it wasn't a hallucinatory trick of her mind. But no, it was exactly as she had seen. Clean and unmarred.

Pushing herself off the ground, she brushed the gobs of dirt that clung to her skirt, and gave a sharp yank to the hem to straighten it out. Something flickered at the back of her memory and she immediately swung her head around in sharp snaps, gazing over the rolling hills. _Where was Harry?_ A long line of trees encircling the field was her only answer. _Ron? Where's Ron?_ But for that matter, where were the quintapeds who had nearly ripped them apart with their claws for dinner.

Her sharp intake of breath sounded noisy to her ears as she came to a realization. _Gone! Everything is gone!_ There was no scar-marked boy to rush over and fret over her injuries, nor a flaming haired friend to exclaim irrationally over her moronic actions. There wasn't even the guttural snarl of a creature pissed of at losing something to eat. No birds, no animals, _nothing__. What in the world was going on here?_

She had to move, find something, escape and let everyone know where she was. Hermione couldn't stay here, everyone would be caught up in some mass hysteria that she had gone off and killed herself, Harry especially.

Keeping a firm grip on her wand, Hermione scrambled over the mound she had been lying on, and stood at the crest, scanning her surroundings. If she wanted to prove to everyone she wasn't some rotting corpse out in the middle of nowhere she had to go home, and that meant finding the way out of here. But, wait a minute. Didn't she have a portkey? In fact, weren't all of them given a portkey at the beginning of their mission for use in emergencies? Dropping her hands down, Hermione patted, searched, and turned out every nook, cranny, and pocket on her clothing, but turned up with nothing more than a few scraps of wispy lint.

Fighting the urge to scream in frustration, she gave her side pocket a last glare, before taking a step toward the trees. Well, guess she was going to do this the hard way.

Hermione was expecting to find a gloomy, oppressive forest with dark shadows flitting out from every corner. But as she held her wand out at the ready, she was surprised to see she was wrong. Warm rays of sun trickled through the thick canopy, hitting her face and lighting her path. Large splashes of green crept over the trunks of trees on either side of her, and she placed a hand on the spongy moss to reassure herself that it was real.

Crouching down in the muddy path, the pungent scent of wet wood, fresh pine, and the fresh aroma after a spring rain hit her senses, and she breathed in heavily, taking comfort in its welcoming smell. Bright flowers dotted the floor, petals of blue, yellow, pink, and red greeted her with opened faces. Hermione touched the soft petals, caressing them with the pads of her fingers, and traced the outline of their shape over and over again.

How was that possible? They almost seemed to reflect the secret comfort she took in their elegant curves and straight lines. But how did they get there? When she came into this forest, there was no plants, flowers, or anything of the sort. It was all drab, brown, and entirely overrun with giant weeds. In fact, if she were to look back, she clearly remembered having to force, chop, and slash her way through thick bushes and wild growth. Dark, heavy globs of mud had clung to her boots, shirt, and skirt, leaving her with a sickening slimy sensation. It looked and matched the part of a banished, untouched island, filled with abandoned bloodthirsty monsters.

There was something strange going on here and she was going to find out - _now_. Taking a firmer grip of her wand, Hermione gazed down the path, and kept her eyes fixated on the bright light that shone between the trees at the end of her vision. It just wasn't possible that Harry and Ron would leave her here while they would run off to safety. They would never leave her behind. _Never_. Unless...

Hermione's head snapped up as the thought crossed her mind. Unless they were injured, or worse, _killed_. Shaking her head, she bit her lip with much more force than needed, and held her wand out in front of her. No, she shouldn't let herself entertain such ridiculous ideas. Harry and Ron were perfectly fine. They knew how to take care of themselves. Didn't they fend off the attacks of an angry quintaped, survive duels against the he-who-must-not-be-named a million times before, and lived to tell about it? They were somewhere; she just had to find them. It would be just like them to go gallivanting off and getting themselves into trouble.

But then what about her leg? How would she explain that? She had been on the brink of near death, eaten by some mysterious black substance, but now she was perfectly healthy with not even a stray scar to show for her ordeal? Even with the best healing medicine, there was no way she'd be fixed so quickly and thoroughly. Gulping, Hermione pressed her lips together and took her first steps forward.

Her wand trembled in her grasp, dancing irregular shapes, as she made her way past the line of trees. Silence bore down on her with a suffocating choke hold, and a trickle of sweat snaked down the back of her neck. Hermione felt the tingle of magic as she drew closer, kept her hand steady, and continued onward with light steps, ready to flee if needed. Despite the cheerful, upbeat, and secure feelings her surroundings tried to invoke, she knew not to trust them. There was always the elusive taste of dark magic mingled in the air, and whatever it was, she didn't want to be caught unprepared.

A clearing grew sharply before her eyes, enveloped by the bright yellow rays that shone from above. A prickling sense of tension rose in the air, and she realized someone was _there_. But no matter how hard she squinted, his form was blocked, covered by the blazing sun that had been sorely absent only hours before. Hermione inched closer to the imaginary line that marked entrance to the space in front of her, and tried to gaze inwards once more, but yielded the same failing results. Taking in a sharp breath that caused her to wince at the harsh, loud noise that reverberated through the air, she broke through the barrier, palms nearly dripping with sweat.

"Hello," a low voice greeted.

Hermione stiffened, almost shooting off a spell in her shock. Deep blue eyes gazed at her, infused with an intense emotion she could not name. His dark robes, cleanly pressed shirt, and long slacks marked him as Hogwarts student. Sunlight shone off his wavy brown hair, and she stared at him the words dying in her throat. A hint of a smirk graced his lips, and she narrowed her eyes.

Pointing her wand at him, she demanded, "Who are you?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm sure you're quite familiar with my name. You've heard it before," he said, taunting her with a drawl.

Hermione frowned. Who in the blazes could he be? She didn't recall ever seeing his face in a book, and if he had been someone of importance, she would definitely not have forgotten a face like that. He seemed to be amused by her puzzlement, watching her with a self-satisfied expression. Gritting her teeth, Hermione fought to rein in the glare that she was highly tempted to throw at him.

"What do you mean? How do you expect me to know your name when I've never met or seen you before?" Hermione shot back. Who did he think he was? Besides what was he doing _here_, in this forest, on this island of all things? Especially when it was supposed to be _abandoned_. There must be something sinister about him, his whole persona radiated it. She had to keep her wits about her, who knows what kind of dark magic he could unleash.

He gave a wry chuckle in response. Drawing himself up to stand taller, he tilted his head at a certain angle, and spoke, "Oh, no. You most definitely know who I am. I'm sometimes referred to as Tom Riddle."

Hermione gasped. "You're-You're Lord Voldemort!" She was dead. _Dead_.

"Not yet."

_Not yet?_ How could he say such a thing with such blase, and such a lack of concern, as if the things he had done meant nothing? And then with a great rush, a surge of hatred boiled up inside her, ripping and shredding her control to pieces. "Stupefy!" she screamed, her heart pounding loudly in her ears.

_Tom_, as he was called, sidestepped the red light with ease, an amused smirk on his lips. "Come now. Do you really believe that's necessary?"

_"Necessary?_ You're a murderer! You've killed hundreds of people and you have the audacity to stand there in front of me and pretend that you're not?" Hermione brandished her wand at him again, unleashing a torrent of spells that he waved away with a flick of his wrist.

"I thought you were smarter than that, Hermione. You're going to condemn me when I haven't done these things yet?" he said, stepping closer. _How dare he use her name with such familiarity!_

"It doesn't matter! You will!" she raged, face flushing a bright pink. The biggest question wasn't what he had done, but how did he _know_ of her? How did he get her name? A light bulb flickered to life in the back of her mind, and she took a step back at the revelation. That's right! He was a Legilimens! He could rip through her thoughts like a shredder. How _dare_ he! The rage that had bubbled up in her earlier was a churning, choppy mess. She was going to kill him!

"Will I?" he answered again, edging closer to her. The lines of his face were more clear now and he must have been nearly a whole foot taller than her. There was no way she would take him down in a physical fight.

"It doesn't matter!" Hermione shrieked. "You deserve to die for what you're going to do!" Images of Harry, his parents, Sirius, and countless others he had killed swarmed in front of her. How could he just stand there in front of her, spouting off words so casually, denying what he did? He committed murder! _Murder!_ And nothing he said could change that.

Tom's eyes swirled into a darker blue, a tick in his jaw working as he clenched his teeth. "I never would have thought Hogwart's brightest star would be so irrational. You're willing to murder a seventeen-year-old boy who hasn't done any of the crimes you've accused him of yet, because there's no other acceptable reason then for the fact that he will?"

Hermione stopped. _Seventeen?_ _That would make him about my age..._ _No, this can't be possible!_ There was no way she could've been transported back to his time. Absolutely none! She must be going crazy. But like an annoying fly that followed you there was a real, flesh and blood Tom Riddle standing before her awaiting her answer.

"It doesn't matter! You're evil! You're going to do it eventually!"

"Maybe I will, maybe I won't. You're going to pass judgment on me for things I've done in the future that may not even come true? Who are you to decide what my fate holds?" Tom moved his hands toward the side, his wand held in a loose grip. She realized what he was doing. He was making himself open, vulnerable, asking her to attack at such a grand opportunity. "Go ahead. Your choice. Just remember - it'll make you a murderer as well."

Hermione shook her head, trying to chase away his silky words from her mind. He was trying to trick her, coax her into seeing his side, so he could get the upper hand. She could do it! All she had to do was say the words and it would be done. The greatest Dark Wizard in history gone in a flash of green light. She thrust her wand out, and jabbed at him.

But just as her mouth opened, the words refused to come out. The dark wood of her wand glinted in the sun, and a new wave of sweat broke out over her palm. Her hands shook as his words tumbled endlessly over one another. She may hate him, and wanted him dead, but she wasn't above killing another person in cold blood. He did have a point. If she killed him now before he had undertook the terrible crimes stated in history, it _would_ make her a murderer because he was still a teen - innocent, though she scoffed at that notion.

Her wand lowered a fraction of an inch, but she still kept it poised at the ready. "Don't even think of coming closer to me. If you make one wrong step, I'll blow your brains out!"

Tom looked down at her, not impressed in the least at her declaration. "Agreed." His eyes gleamed with something akin to triumph, and she felt like hexing him to hell just for his audacity.

Sighing, Hermione refused to take her eyes off him but she needed to find Harry. There was no way she would turn her back to him and give him the opportunity to _Avada Kedavra_ her soul to oblivion. Pre-Voldemort or not, he was still evil.

"Looking for something?" he asked, noting the way her eyes shifted in barely perceptible movements from the right to left.

"No!" Hermione snapped, voice high. She stalked around the edge of the clearing, her back towards the trees, and her wand held out in front of her.

Tom gave a low snicker. He pulled at the end of his sleeves, the Slytherin seal on his robes standing out in harsh relief against the black of the fabric. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Yeah, right! Did he honestly expect her to believe that pile of crock? His spotless attire, suave way of speaking, dark blue eyes, and good looks might have fooled other people, but not her, she had learned her lesson. Powerful magic radiated off of him in waves and his very figure seemed to suck all the colors from their surroundings, until he shone in unchecked clarity.

Hermione sent him a glare. "Your pretty words won't sway my mind."

Tom's eyes flashed, her skin tingling from something she couldn't place, and he strode toward her in slow, rhythmic strides, like a panther stalking their prey. Panic rose in her throat, and she glanced around frantically, jabbing her wand upwards in a rush. Red sparks flew out in distress, but were quickly muffled by the tip striking a firm surface. Tom's chest.

His lips curved upward in a smirk and he brushed her wand away with a sweep of his hand. Hermione gasped. Should she flee? Attack? What? Was she finally going to meet her demise in a brilliant bolt of green? Her nerves were sitting on a precipice, and her body was taut, over sensitive to every move he was making. But Tom simply lowered his head, and whispered, "That would be a shame."

A flush broke out over her cheeks, and she could feel the ghost of his words sliding over her ear, warm and direct. Hermione stood gaping, mouth slightly ajar, as her thoughts raced in circles, but then a flood of shame rushed through her body and she pushed her wand harder against his chest. Tom chuckled, and stood up, moving back a step as he watched her with those deep blue eyes of his.

He turned to her left, and raised out an arm to his side. "If you want to see your friends again, I suggest you go that way."

Hermione followed the direction his arm was leading; another path into a wall of light and into realms unknown. She didn't trust him, but what other choice did she have? Stay here and be lost forever, or move and be that much closer to finding them. Giving him a heated stare, she edged away from him, not taking her eyes off his figure for a second. "I'm not fooled for a second. Once I have my back turned, you're going to fire off a nice _Avada Kedavra_, aren't you? Well, you know what? Just try it! You may be the future harbinger of evil, but I'm not scared of you!"

"Don't worry, Hermione Granger. I wouldn't _dream_ of it," she heard him say, as the sound of his laughter echoed through the forest.

Shivers rocketed through her spine and down her elbows, and she stomped off towards the path he showed her. Hermione tried to keep her steps even as steady as she could in an attempt to pretend that his words weren't getting to her, but she found herself walking at a quicker clip than normal. She gave one last look back, fuming at the smug expression on his face and the look of satisfaction in his eyes, and jumped through the barrier of light.

Hermione jolted up, a loud gasp escaping from her throat. Her eyes swirled around the room in frantic circuits. What were these white curtains, this bed, and clean floor doing here? Why was she lying down and wrapped ever so tenderly with a white blanket around her middle? Where was the forest? The clearing? _Tom Riddle?_ Tossing off her covers, a wave of pain assaulted her, and she nearly collapsed back onto her bed. Her leg! It wasn't new and fixed, but wrapped up in thick gauze that went all the way down to the tips of her toes.

A rustle of noises, alerted her to an oncoming presence. "Hermione! You're awake!" In the next instant she was swarmed on both sides by a boy with messy black hair, and one that looked like it had been through one too many bad hair dye jobs. _Harry? Ron?_

"Where-"

"Where are you?" Harry finished for her, enveloping her in a hug, as Ron kept patting her on the back with awkward timed taps. She nodded. "You're in the hospital wing at Hogwarts."

"You've been unconscious for three days," Ron added, gazing down at her. "We thought you were gone for." He had kept a straight face but that slight hitch in his voice told her how much he - they - cared, and how worried they were.

"I'm sorry." Hermione looked downwards, toying with the sheet on top the bed. Even her clothes looked the part; wrinkled, torn, and fraying at the corners.

"Why are you apologizing? You almost _died,_ Hermione, that's nothing you should be sorry for. If anything, it's my fault that got you into this mess," Harry said, balling his hand into a fist. His green eyes were piercing in intensity. A fleeting image of dark blue drifted out of the darkness, and she frowned. Shaking her head, she pressed her lips together in thought.

_Three days? How could I have been asleep for that long?_ She was just there! She could even picture the tall overhanging trees, damp ground, and bright sunlight that washed everything in a yellow glow. Recalling them was as simple as snapping her fingers. What had happened? "How did I get here?" Hermione cringed at the raspy, cracking sound of her voice.

"Well, that's a long story," Ron joked, giving a half-chuckle.

"Okay, so start at the beginning then," Hermione said, managing a smile.

"What do you last remember?" Harry asked, wrapping both his hands around hers.

She furrowed her brow, trying to drag up the hazy memories that had become buried under deep layers of mysterious images. She saw herself, collapsed, black ooze slithering up her leg, burning through her sensations that there was nothing left for her but the overwhelming feeling of pain. "Fainting." A small voice needled her about telling them what she had in her mind, but she shoved it down ruthlessly into a dark recess. Why alarm them about something that wasn't important? She could figure it out for herself.

Harry sighed, and took in a deep breath. "We panicked, of course. We're not so adept at handling the situation as you are," he said with a wry smile, before turning serious once again. "We didn't know what to do. Ron kept screaming, and I was screaming, and we just sort of had a meltdown before we realized that there still was a flesh eating ooze racing towards us, and a cave crashing above us."

"So, we picked you up and hauled you towards the entrance as best as we could, blasting the doors open to get out..." Ron stopped, flinching, as he reached up and touched his neck.

"But the quintaped was still there. By now it had brought its whole pack with him, and was just waiting to pounce on us as soon as we stepped out."

"I know this may sound terrible, but we had to drop you, Hermione. There was no way we could've fought them off carrying you on our back." Ron swallowed, continuing, "Harry did the most of it, blasting off spells I've never heard of before. He did this one trick with fire and sort of whipped it around him. Wouldn't mind learning that," he said with a grin.

Harry ignored him, and picked up where his friend had left off. "One of them had knocked Ron down good. Got a clean swipe of his neck before I got there." He frowned, glancing off to the side at the other half of their duo.

Ron grimaced, rubbing his neck gingerly. Hermione's eyes widened, and reached up, yanking away his hand to look for his wound. There was nothing. He was perfectly fine. "Yeah, there may be nothing there, but holy fucking hell that bloody hurt, man! I keep thinking it's still there, just a sort of tingly feeling, you know?"

Sure that there was no other place he had been harmed, she sat back down, satisfied for the time being. "I'm glad you're okay. I don't know what I would have done if it was you in this bed instead of me."

"Yeah, me too."

Harry ran a hand through his mass of hair, his scar peeking through briefly before it was covered by his bangs once more. "When we got back to you, you were near death. You were barely breathing, and nothing we did could make you wake up. Then I remembered that we still had those portkeys Dumbledore had given us, and that's how we got back here."

"You should've seen it! Everyone was in such a panic when we walked in through those doors," Ron inserted, laughing.

_Trust Ron to find amusement out of this,_ Hermione chided inwardly, but the tiniest of grins managed to sneak through. "Oh, Ron, that's a terrible thing to say!" Crumpling the ends of her blanket, she sighed, and cast a gaze down at her leg. It looked so strange, like she had sprouted a monster limb, and she didn't want to imagine what it looked like under all those bandages.

"How do you feel?" Harry asked, watching his girlfriend's gaze drift downwards.

Hermione switched her attention back up, drowning in the deep green of his eyes. _That would be a shame_ surfaced in low, seductive tones. Where had that come from? Fighting off the head that threatened to break out over her cheeks, she said, "I-I'm fine. A bit sore, maybe, but no worse for the wear." When would she get out of here? Her body was starting to go numb from lack of movement. And if she was here for three days, there was no telling how much homework she missed!

A loud bang erupted from the corner, and the three of them turned their heads toward the direction of the sound in unison. A stout woman with curly hair, rosy cheeks, and wearing a white apron slid open the curtains. "Oh, I should've known the two of you would be here." Shooing them away from the bed, she took up their place by Hermione's side. "I see our patient is finally awake. How do you feel?"

"Fine. Maybe a bit sore," Hermione repeated. She watched as the woman waved her wand over her body, a greet light emitting from the top. Her face scrunched up in concentration, as she took note of the results. Pocketing her wand at her side, she placed her hand on the bandages and began to gently pry them away from her leg, unwinding them in slow, careful motions.

Pale skin appeared, and the brush of cool air left her tingling. Madam Pomfrey ran her fingers down the length of her calf, squeezing and prodding it in her tests. She nodded, giving it a gentle pat. "Your leg seems to be fine. You're quite lucky to be alive, miss. I had the most terrible time fighting off that nasty curse you stumbled upon. If the Headmaster hadn't helped me, I think you would've died," she chided, brow contracted. "But with some strong potions and good old fashioned healing spells, you can fix anything. Only unfortunate thing is that you'll probably have a large scar."

Hermione dropped her gaze to her leg, scanning for the trademark white line that marred her skin. _Scar?_ _Will I have to hobble around too?_ What was she thinking? How could she be so vain when she was lucky to be alive? What ridiculousness! Shaking her head, she asked the more important question at hand, "So when do you think I'll be released?"

Madam Pomfrey pursed her lips, crossing her arms over her chest. "I'll give it another day of rest and you should be fine. And, you two!" she barked, whipping around to face the two boys who tried to hide in the corner. "Don't you even think about disturbing her! She needs to rest. I won't hear of your traipsing around, telling her all sorts of stories, and getting her worked up! Do you hear me!" she yelled, brandishing a finger at them.

They nodded. "Yes, ma'am!"

"Good! Now get back to class and leave my patient alone," she ordered, turning her back on them.

"We'll be back later, Hermione." Harry gave her a smile, before disappearing around the corner. And with that, they slipped out of the door and left.

After a few more checks, Madam Pomfrey left, leaving Hermione to muddle over her own thoughts. A heavy weight around her neck smashed her back to the present, and she put her fingers around it, gasping as she remembered. It was that necklace! The necklace she had almost died for! The warm metal lay smooth against her skin and she clasped her hand around it. Her mind had been shattered into splinters. It wasn't a dream. It was real, and that meant the Tom Riddle she had met was real as well...

* * *

**A/N 2:** You know, I'm shocked that I'm updating this story. I hadn't planned on writing anything for this for quite a while because I'm trying to get my other story going. But earlier this week, I sort of glanced at the page, and dabbled a few words, and the next thing I knew, whole sentences and paragraphs started flowing out. Eh, I guess procrastination does work. Anywho, we have Tom Riddle now. Yay! He's such a fun character.

I probably won't update this for a long time again, so don't get your hopes too high. Maybe if I'm bored and trying to avoid writing my other story(ies), I'll come back to this.

Thanks: Of course, I have to thank my wonderful readers and reviewers! Especially: The Fuzy Llama _(*giggles* I just wanted to poke a bit of fun at them. LoL)_, GrangersTwin666, Mary, XxNadsxX, and Oak Reedglow. Thank you so very much again! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter.


End file.
